


Settle Me Down

by glackedandmullered



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: anger issues, more calming boyfriends, self harming behaviours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:09:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glackedandmullered/pseuds/glackedandmullered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn't stop himself, it just helped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Settle Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt on tumblr: ot6, michael suddenly realizes he feels better about stuff when he gets hurt (like when he's raging and once during a rage quit he accidentally pinched a piece of skin between the thumbstick and felt a surge of calm) only the more he does it the stronger the rebuttal pain needs to be to give him the same feeling. he realizes this while in a relationship with all the guys and they start to notice a lot of injuries cropping up

“Fucking shit!” Michael yelled as his screen darkened again and the words Game Over glared out in neon yellow. It was Rage Quit so he expected nothing else besides anger inducing gameplay but this game was severely pissing him off. He couldn’t even get two feet from the start line and it was making for some piss poor footage. Geoff laughed from behind him and he took a frustrated second to hiss out a _shut the fuck up Geoff_ before returning to the game. 

Respawn, step, die. Respawn, step, die. Over and over until he couldn’t take it anymore and he slammed his controlled down onto the table with a scream. However it wasn’t plastic that hit the desk, instead his hand came down before it and the side of his clenched fist cracked painfully against the wooden desk. He swore loudly and hunched over in his chair, tugging his headphones off when they strained against his head. 

“Christ Michael, you okay?” Geoff gasped and slipped out of his chair to kneel in front of Michaels. The man shook his hand as if that would help with the stabbing pain but it took him only a few seconds to realise the throbbing was draining his anger. He felt like all the clouded rage in his head was clearing with second, all being absorbed into the pain in his hand. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, stupid fucking mistake.” He smiled and patted Geoff’s shoulder as the man tried to fuss over him. 

After that it became almost routine. When he felt himself getting wound up during Let’s Plays he would dig the heel of his shoe into the skin on his shin, scratching away at the skin until, when he looked at it later, blood bubbled up to the surface and the skin peeled away. 

On more than one occasion he would find himself with bruised, bloodied knuckles, blossoming marks all over his skin from pinches and bites and a headache from one too many head on collisions with walls and desks. One day, when Gavin was taunting him about a stupid mistake in a Let’s Play, he had bitten clean through his lip and had to spend the next hour in the bathroom with a towel pressed to his face. It barely took a month to get to a point where he couldn’t calm himself down without the pain, without the draw of his attention away from the fuel for his anger. 

If he thought his boyfriends hadn’t noticed he was wrong. If they thought they weren’t watching him whenever they could trying to figure out what was going on then he was also wrong and if he thought for one second they weren’t spending more time with him now to find out where the injuries were coming from he would be classified as an idiot. 

They watched as their boyfriends body gained injury after injury, some small, some larger, all shocking every time they saw them. 

“Do you think someone’s hurting him?” Gavin asked Friday morning as they gathered around the island in the kitchen waiting for the Jersey man to wake up. 

“Do you think he’s hurting himself?” Ryan countered and they put their heads down in silence as they considered the possibility that their own boyfriend could be self harming.

“Well it has to be something. We need to find out what.” Jack announced finally and a hum of acceptance chorused around the island. They looked up as footsteps padded down the stairs and tried to look as inconspicuous a possible as a scruffy haired, boxer clad Michael appeared in the doorway rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

If he suspected anything he didn’t say a word and their eyes all honed in on the tiny bruises littering his hips. As he disappeared upstairs with his coffee having not said a word the men all vowed to confront him later in the day. There was no point in doing it right there when he was too tired to talk to have a proper discussion.

They needn’t have bothered with the plan seeing as it all came to a head that day anyway. 

“How the fuck am I that fucking _stupid_!” Michael roared, tugging his hair and letting out a long frustrated screech. Nearly 2 hours of recording down the shit hole as he realised he had never properly set up his software to capture his game footage. He had decided to film his full play on the Friday when all the rest of his work was completed and the others wouldn’t be going home until at least 6; he didn’t want to be stuck at home on his own for hours bored out of his skull so he recorded instead. Except he didn’t. He fucked up and now he was fucking pissed. 

Everyone else in the office whipped around in shock when his fist hit the desk. He was so angry at himself, at his computer at everything that he hadn’t remembered that he wasn’t alone in the office. He slammed his fist down over and over, yelling and swearing incoherently. The skin on his fist breaks under the abuse as he hits the rough edges on the structure and he only acknowledges that it’s happened when suddenly he’s being restrained. Arms tighten around him and hands grip his wrists firmly, halting any further assault on himself as he continues to scream in pure rage. 

He isn’t sure why this time is so much worse but now he finds himself unable to stop fighting even as someone speaks calm words to him, an attempted soothing mantra that only triggers something else in Michael as tears begin streaming down his face. He fights and fights against the hold that is on him and they end up on the floor, all five men around him holding him down on the ground. He still tries to kick away, the need to let pain absorb anger so potent, but they won’t let him, their hands keeping him down with almost bruising strength. As strong as he is he is nothing against his boyfriends all working together and he feels his fight weakening as he grows tired. His kicking halts and his fists unclench as his head drops to the side and his screams turn to whimpers and hitched breathing. 

“Are you calm now?” Geoff asks from somewhere near his head and he only nods as best he can with the exhaustion running through him. They let go of their holds on him and whoever is behind him helps him to sit up and prop himself up against the desk. Ray disappears out of his line of sight and the door opens and closes but all he can see is Gavin sat against the desk opposite, tears in his own eyes and expression terrified. 

“Sorry.” Michael croaks, his throat raw from overuse. 

“What was that?” Gavin whispered and Michael looks away, not wanting to see the fear in Gavins eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats as Geoff pulls him closer into his arms. 

“Tell us what happened, love.” The older man said quietly into his ear, the voice was calm but he could hear the concern lacing the words. The door clicks open and shut again and then Ray is beside him, taking Michael’s injured hand in his own. He dabs at the weeping scrapes on the skin with anti-bac wipes and Michael flinches at the shot of pain that runs up his arm. His anger was completely forgotten, whether that be the pain he caused or the shock at knowing he’s just had a complete meltdown in front of his partners. 

“I was angry.” Was all he could think to reply though the answer sounded feeble and pathetic to his own ears, he tucked himself against Geoffs chest and the man squeezed his thigh soothingly.

“Yeah we saw that, man.” Ray snorted and yelped when Ryan reached over and slapped his arm. 

“Sorry, but seriously I’ve never seen you that angry before. It was kinda scary.” He admitted quietly and went back to cleaning and dressing Michaels hand. 

Jack spoke before he could apologise again. 

“Is that where the injuries have been coming from? Your bruises and everything?” Michael could only nod against Geoffs chest and Gavin crawled closer now that he could see all the anger had bled out of Michaels face. 

“Why?” 

“It helps.” Michael muttered, pulling his hand back into his lap and cradling the bandaged appendage with his other. 

“Are you…doing anything else?” Ray asked with a stutter, not wanting to know the answer but knowing it needed to be said but Michael shook his head quickly. 

“I’m not cutting myself if that’s what you’re asking. It’s not like that…it just stops the anger.” 

“It’s still hurting yourself and it’s not good.” Ryan scolded lightly and Michael felt a wave of shame pass through him.

“I can’t help it, it just happens. I need it.” He whispered knowing how pathetic it sounded. 

“From now on I want you to call us if you get like that again, if you feel like you need to get it out then call us and we can help.” Geoff told him, voice low but reassuring and Jack scooted closer, Gavin nearly in his lap. 

“Call us anyway, even if you _do_ do that again. Just don’t go through it alone.” They all nodded in agreement and moved closer, completely ignoring the fact that they were sat on the hard, dirty office floor they put all their attention on their pained lover and promised to make everything alright again.


End file.
